


Pathos

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [298]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, another dip in the Thames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 21:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12690963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: pathos: noun: PAY-thahss: an element in experience or in artistic representation evoking pity or compassion; an emotion of sympathetic pityfrom mid 17th cent.: from Greek pathos ‘suffering’; related to paskhein ‘suffer’ and penthos ‘grief.’





	Pathos

Lestrade stopped short as he saw Sherlock holding John in his arms, trying to warm him up. They were both soaked head to toe, as if - idiots. He always told the detective to wait, he never did, but now was not the time for an 'I told you so.' Instead he pulled out his mobile, as he noted Sherlock was shaking too hard to use his own, and it was probably at the bottom of the Thames by now, any way. Lestrade called for an ambulance and stood by, quietly watching his friend... was Sherlock his friend? He considered the question for a moment and realized just how few friends Sherlock actually had, including the man he was anxiously whispering to in front of him.

"John. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, John." He looked up then and Greg drew in a breath sharply. He had known Sherlock for years, but had never seen him in such a state, if he were honest with himself, pathos wasn't something he associated with the normally cold and calculating man. He wasn't quite sure he could say anything that would help, so he returned to his sedan and pulled out a couple of warm blankets, then carried them over to Sherlock.

"Could be worse, mate."

Sherlock's teeth chattered, but he nodded and muttered, "ccccould be Decemberrrr instead of July."

"Here, give me your jacket and your shirt -"

Sherlock shook his head. "I ccan't, I won'ttt."

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take him while you get undressed and put the blanket around you. You aren't gonna be any good to him if -"

Something in his tone got through to him and he let Greg take John from his arms. "Please -"

Greg sighed as he lifted the Belstaff from John's shivering form, again he wondered how Sherlock could wear it in the midst of the hottest summer in decades, but at least he had taken it off before he went in after John, it was only slightly damp - "Diddd I get him?" John managed as Greg worked on the buttons of his shirt.

Lestrade snorted and looked over at Sherlock, who was now wrapped in the ugly grey wool blanket, who nodded. "Yeah, he's over there - I thought about letting him drown, but I went after him after I got John out, just unconscious, last time I checked he was breathing."

"Yeah, mate, you got him."

"Good - where's Ssssherr - is he?"

Sherlock moved to John's side and took John's hand in his. "I'm here, John. What did you think -"

"Weren't. Thinking. Just saw you - he had a knife - and I cccouldn't let anythin' 'appen to you-"

"Why? What does it matter -" Sherlock watched as Greg pulled John's shirt from him, then Lestrade placed him in Sherlock's arms once again, and he cradled him as if he were something precious, it occurred to the DI, wondering why he hadn't seen it before.

"Idiot." He shook his head as he heard the sirens finally.

Sherlock glared at him. "I'm the idiot."

Lestrade shook his head. "I shoulda seen it. I did see it -"

"See what?"

"Two of you. You would each die for the other without a second thought."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. "He's - I - "

"Yeah, I know, they're coming, Sherlock. They will want to check you too, don't make a fuss this time, yeah? Let them take care of him. I'm just gonna -" Lestrade got to his feet and walked towards the lights coming at them.

"Cuz I love you." He heard John mumble into Sherlock's chest.

He missed Sherlock's response as Donovan jumped out of her car and started yelling until she saw them huddled together. "They okay, Sir?"

"Yeah, Donovan, I think they'll be just fine."

 

Lestrade walked into John's room and nearly turned back around as he saw Sherlock fast asleep in John's arms. "Nah, it's fine - I'm guessing you need to take our statements? He'll be out for a couple hours at least. I wanted to thank you - I don't remember much - I know we should have waited - he never - he doesn't think it matters what happens to him, so he just -"

"I have the feeling that will change, mate."

John's face flushed. "Yeah. maybe - listen, about what happened - uhm, it's -"

"Mum's the word."

"Just don't want people thinking he's gone -"

"Soft?"

"I was thinking 'human' but yeah, 'soft' will work in a pinch." John managed to smile as Sherlock shifted against him.

"He's like a brother to me, John - just, uhm, don't -he doesn't -"

John's eyes changed as he looked down at Sherlock then back up at Lestrade. "I love him, Greg. I - he's - I promise -"

"Good enough for me. He's a good man, John. Always thought so, just finally saw it last night - saw his face when he thought you might not make it. I'm gonna get some real coffee, get you anything?"

"Nah, I'm fine, thanks."

Greg nodded and left the room.

"He's gone then?" Sherlock whispered into John's neck.

"Yeah, love, he's gone. Go back to sleep."

"Love you."

"Yeah, I know. I know. Go back to sleep, or I'll make you eat my jello, which should be arriving shortly."

"I'd rather -"

"Don't. say. it."

"Sorry. I'm sorry, John."

"Shhhh... just sleep, love." John ran his fingers through Sherlock's curls and closed his eyes as he felt Sherlock relax against him. "I'm here, Sherlock, not going anywhere, promise."


End file.
